


you thought that you two were something unbreakable

by ang3lba3



Series: Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breakup, Crying, F/M, FML, everyone has regrets in this and most of them are mine for writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(You were wrong.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you thought that you two were something unbreakable

**Author's Note:**

> bitches-and-crackers fault. I couldn't bear to come up with a concrete reason as to why theyre breaking up, so ambiguity it is again.
> 
> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)

It can’t be -

It can’t end like this.

Not with her looking down her nose at you, even though she’s a full foot and a half shorter and that should be impossible. Not with her shouting sharp edged words with that sickening under layer of defeat.

No, you correct yourself. It can definitely end like this. But it shouldn’t, and you don’t want it to, so you bite back whatever fancy worded retort you were going to spit out next and sit down on the ground heavily.

(Mud soaks into your jeans, your ass is cold and slimy within seconds, you hate your fucking life.)

“I’m sorry,” you say simply, even though it’s not your fault, even though you can’t work through this so there’s no use for apologies. There’s - there’s no working through this kind of thing. This massive fucking hole where what you used to feel for her is gone, replaced with something twisted and wrong and mean and hurt.

“And another thi-” she stops. Looks at you. Sighs. 

(Her cotton-polyester blend skirt provides even less protection than your denim did when she sits down. You know what it’s made of because not a day ago you were checking to see what load you should wash it with. Because you share chores, because you share a house, because you shar-

Because you shar _ed.)_

It’s not okay, what’s happening, but you don’t want to end it like you’ve been so desperately trying to. You’ve seen love tear your friends to shreds when it dies, you’ve seen them claw at each other desperately as if it’ll make what’s happening better. It doesn’t, and you don’t want - even with what happened, you can’t bear to let the purest thing you ever had go in such a blasphemous manner. 

“I’m.. well, it doesn’t really matter what I am at this point,” she says, picking at a stray thread on the hem of her skirt. “Does it.”

It’s not a question.

“You were everything to me,” you say. The past tense hangs in the air with a heavy kind of finality in the way none of the insults did. 

You sit there like that for a long time. The world is far too noisy around you, even out in the middle of the woods. Maybe especially out here. Nature is waking up, the sun is baking the spring mud into your clothes as you sit here, but you can’t make yourself leave, not yet. 

“I did love you,” she finally whispers, and that was what you needed, that was what you were waiting for, because you swallow all the tears and words that want to come out and rocket to your feet.

Nothing will make a Strider run like the imminent threat of crying in front of someone else. 

(It’s the first time she’s ever been something to run from, and that more than anything is why you barely make it to the car before you start crying, why you have to pull over in some public access parking lot with a nice view of the lake to cry less than a mile later.

You’ve heard about healing cries. You’ve heard about crying that comes like rain on a dry piece of farmland, nourishing, comforting. 

This is not one of those cries. 

You cry like your world is ending, but that’s not right.

You cry because your world did end. Because it’s gone, and now you have to live without it.

You cry.)


End file.
